Dolencor
by cirthturien
Summary: The council of Elrond chose to hide the Ring instead of to unmake it. The Ring remains dormant until a new evil force from the dephths of Germany seeks to cover the world with darkness. Two stories intermingled. AU R/R, please
1. The Council of Elrond

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Tolkien's.  
  
Dolencor  
  
Time whorls and separates, spreading out into different directions, creating and destroying different dimensions. For every different vortex, for every decision made, there is a new universe created in which the opposite decision is made. And the multiverse grows and changes.  
  
"Then let us cast the Ring into the sea," declared Glorfindel, "and make the lies of Saruman truth, for often in lies truth can be found. The Ring would be safe in the deeps."  
  
"Not forever," answered Gandalf. "In the sea the fate of the Ring would be clouded even to the wise. A fish might swallow it and be caught in a fisherman's net the next morning. The Ring would then be found and our greatest fears would have a chance to be realized. Such is the way with such objects as the One Ring. It would want to be found and would find a way as surely as we meet today."  
  
"In any case the road to the sea has become too perilous. There can be no doubt the eye of the Enemy watches that road, for it is the one he expects us to take," Galdor added. "And if the Enemy attacks the sea bordered west, the Grey Havens will no longer give the Elves free passage to leave Middle-earth and pass on to Valinor."  
  
"Long will the Enemy's march be delayed by Gondor," declared Boromir, heir to Gondor's steward. "Gondor remain strong even at it's weakest."  
  
"But it may not be enough," responded the Elf, Galdor. "And Gondor proved unable to hold back the Nine. We return to the decision to hide the Ring or to unmake it."  
  
"The Ring cannot be hidden by the power of the Elves," Lord Elrond said, forestalling debate on that subject.  
  
"There is another land, which may hold the Ring and hide it from Sauron's eye. Few are the Men or Elves who dare enter the cold desolation of the Northern Waste. Orcs and creatures of darkness also shy away from the deep cold. We know no craft that can destroy the Ring, but perhaps there it can be hidden until those who have that craft come," said a soft voice from some where in the assembly. "An older power than that of the Elves could protect it."  
  
"But who will do this thing? Who will bear the Ring?" asked Elrond. At this simple question a great argument began. It seemed no one was eager to take the Ring, but many were eager to speak on the matter. Total chaos was reached when a bearded Dwarf declared he would meet his end before he would allow an Elf to hold the Ring, thus bringing into play the age old racial struggle between the two peoples. Finally a small voice spoke up.  
  
"I will take the Ring. I will take it though I know not the way." Silence fell as the assembled company turned towards the speaker, a simple Hobbit, a creature clearly from a race related to that of Men but appearing to be the size of a small Man-child.  
  
"In this I will help you, Frodo Baggins," said the Wizard, Gandalf in a weary voice, breaking the sudden silence.  
  
"Hey, I'm going too," cried a voice. Another Hobbit appeared from under a nearby bush. Elrond turned towards him with the grim expression of one who is trying not to betray his humor.  
  
"Indeed, it seems impossible to separate you, Samwise Gamgee. Even when Frodo is invited to a secret council and you are not." Sam, correctly assuming that this meant he was going, just smiled.  
  
------- Soon enough, the members of the company charged with hiding the ring began their preparations. In addition to Frodo, Sam, and Gandalf, six members were chosen with each free race of Middle-earth kept in mind. Boromir of Gondor and Aragorn, the ranger who had guided Frodo, Sam and two of their companions, Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took, through many trials from a town near their home in the Shire to Elrond's city of Rivendell, were chosen to represent the race of Man. Legolas, the prince of the far off kingdom of Mirkwood, was chosen to represent the Elves. Gimli, son of Gloin, was to represent the Dwarven-folk. Finally, Merry and Pippin were chosen, or rather they chose themselves. They quickly insisted upon their attendance after hearing that Sam was allowed to go. So it was that the Hobbit-folk had four representatives and that the company totaled nine, nine walkers. 


	2. The Train Ride North

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Tolkien's works  
  
December 1942 Norway  
  
Astrid rested her chin in her hand and stared out the train's window, trying her best to ignore her companions. She took comfort in the fact they were nearly three-fourths of the way to their destination, the cold, dark tundra of northern Norway. Oslo, the capital city where the companions attended college, was cold enough in December. The further north they got the more Astrid's two companions complained.  
  
Sighing, Astrid turned from the window to eye Per and Hans. "It is just cold," she said. "Instead of complaining about it you could start working out questions to ask the Sami."  
  
"I don't see why you are so insistent on collecting Lapplandish stories, Astrid," stated Hans.  
  
"Because, you know as well as I do that the Sami culture is declining, Hans," Astrid replied vehemently. "The government and the farmers moving up north will see that it does. The government takes Sami children to boarding schools to teach them Norwegian. They are forbidden to speak the Sami language and don't have a chance to learn their people's culture and the ways of reindeer herding."  
  
"It's their own fault for not owning the land they live on . . .and requiring too much of it."  
  
"You know as well as I do that the concept of owning land is completely alien to their culture. I can't believe you. You said you wanted to come with, both of you did." Astrid glared pointedly at Hans and shifted her gaze momentarily to Per.  
  
"We still do want to come with," said Per, looking away momentarily. He glanced at the door and held out his hand for silence as it creaked open. The three friends quickly picked up reading material and pretended to be fascinated by it as two men in Nazi uniforms entered the car and walked past. Per waited until they were gone before putting down his book. "Those guys give me more chills than the winter air," he noted solemnly. He glanced at his companions who nodded, their eyes still on the far door. Per's brother had been one of those on the Galtesund, a coastal steamer that had escaped to Great Britain the previous spring. He knew that Astrid and Hans shared the anti-Nazi views of Per and his brother.  
  
The moment passed and the trio commenced their plans for their little northern expedition to collect and record the stories of the Sami during their winter-break from college. After a while, they put away their work and the two young men of the party drifted off to sleep. Astrid watched them for a while contemplating their friendship. No member of the trio had known another before they came to the University of Oslo. Per had come all the way from a farm near the northern city of Trondheim. Hans and Astrid were city folk from Oslo and Skien, respectively. Hans was a good friend, occasionally boisterous and argumentative as he was. Astrid had noticed he tended to take the government's viewpoint. Per was surprisingly modest and gracious even though his family was on the upper side of society where he came from. He could trace his family back far more generations than Astrid could. He had once told her that the farm had been passed father to son since the time of the Vikings. Per didn't seem concerned about the fact the farm he called his home would invariably go to his older brother, Lars. He said that he pitied Lars, who was forever stuck on the farm. Per delighted in his freedom and was none too pleased when the Nazis had conquered Norway. Astrid sighed and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.  
  
***  
  
Captain Schlaechter of the Third Reich was bored. He hated train rides. He could not accomplish his mission sitting on a train staring at the boring countryside. He fervently wished he was a Marshall, a rank he dreamed of achieving. A Marshall would be given an aero plane and would get to all his destinations much faster. Schlaechter's one solace was that they were nearly at their destination, the far north of Norway. Schlaechter was no friend to cold, snow and ice. Also, although a loyal officer of the Third Reich, Schlaechter questioned the wisdom, even the point of his current mission.  
  
It had been all explained to him. Der Fuhrer believed that the undoubtedly superior Aryan race was descended from the Atlantians. The Atlantians in northern Europe had once tricked some great evil by hiding a small object of intense power in the far north of Norway. Der Fuhrer wanted this object retrieved and its properties studied because he believed that with this small object, the Third Reich's ability to conquer the world to be a complete certainty.  
  
Schlaechter had always been secretly skeptical of the mystical element to the Third Reich. He understood that much of it was very cult- like. He had undergone all the rituals to becoming a member of the infamous SS, but a part of his mind still doubted. Schlaechter wondered if his mission was a glorified goose chase.  
  
------------ (A/N) For those not familiar with the Silmarilion - Numenor (Atalantie) is Atlantis, therefore the Numenoreans are believed to be the ancestors of the Aryan people. Needless to say the small object Schlaechter was sent to find is the Ring. The cult side of Nazism is historical fact that fits this story, not a result of the stories AU qualities. The next chapter will be about the fellowship who go on a completely different journey than in the books.  
  
Blablover5- Thankyou very much for the review. Hopefully this chapter and the note above will help to clarify my intentions as to where this story is going. I intend for the fellowship to go deep into the Northern Waste via Angmar. I have not yet decided what adventures they will meet on the way, but I can assure you that they will be completely different from the books. Also, the first chapter was primarily para-quoted and I didn't like doing that much. When one para-quotes from Tolkien I feel it is to hard to maintain the beauty of the language. Thanks again. 


	3. Middleearth: Of Pipeweed and Trolls

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own anything of Tolkien's nor do I seek to profit monetarily from its use.  
  
Middle-Earth The Third Age  
  
Lady Arwen Undomiel sat upon her horse and watched the scene below from a high hill near Rivendell, Imladris, her home. The Fellowship was moving north. Arwen willingly let them go, and yet, her heart was troubled, for one among the Fellowship, Aragorn, called Estel, was her heart's true love. She feared that she would never see him again, that this quest would take his life. Aragorn had traveled the trails and paths for nearly sixty years, a long time for a Human but only an instant in the eyes of an immortal Elf such as Arwen, the daughter of Elrond. In all of Aragorn's travels he had always returned at least in few enough pieces that he could be patched up again, but Arwen knew that this journey held the future of all of Middle-earth in the balance and that in such journeys the fate of an individual was seldom certain. Arwen turned her horse away with a single tear coursing down her fair cheek.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn glanced back once more toward Rivendell before resuming his course. He held the rear position in the Fellowship as they traveled in single or double file, alert for danger. For the moment, they were silent, each lost in their own thoughts as they walked far along the rolling countryside. The sun rose in the sky, diminishing their shadows and then lengthening them again. The noon meal came and went in relative silence. Finally the sun tinged the western sky a vibrant pink and a halt was called, for supper and a night's rest. A small fire was kindled and they cooked as hearty a meal as can come to travelers on the road upon it. The Wizard, theHobbits, Aragorn the Ranger, and the Dwarf lit their pipes and settled back contentedly.  
  
"We are running out of pipe-weed," called Pippin, who had stood to rummage through the discarded packs. "That is one thing I will sorely miss on this journey." The others who smoked rumbled in agreement.  
  
"I, for one, will not," muttered the Legolas, the Elf of the party. Aragorn, the only one who heard him, chuckled softly.  
  
"I would say 'get used to it,' but, alas, I fear you will not have the chance, Greenleaf" he replied softly back using the Westron translation of the Elf's name. The Ranger had known the Prince of Mirkwood for many years and through many adventures. Legolas gave him a look of distain belied by the humor in his eyes.  
  
"I will take the first watch," he announced to the Fellowship as a whole. "That way I shall escape your foul smelling smoke," the Prince added aside to Aragorn. He then moved off to a position from which he could see much of the countryside and yet still easily hear the conversation around the fire with his keen Elven ears.  
  
"Gandalf, will the Ringwraiths come after us even with their mounts destroyed?" queried Frodo, bringing a somber mood back to the Fellowship. "Strider, Aragorn that is, told me back in Bree that they would ever hunt for the Ring." His hand unconsciously reached up towards his chest where the Ring was hidden on a chain worn under his Hobbit's shirt.  
  
"That may be," Gandalf replied. "But they must return to their master to gain new mounts, a difficult task for ones with such poor vision as those. At the moment I am more concerned about other servants of the enemy: Orcs, Goblins and such. There have been rumors upon the wind saying that the Enemy seeks to regain what land in the north was once his, Angmar, a land I fear we may find ourselves passing through later. Not to worry just yet, young Hobbits," he added with a smile when he noted the unease of the four Hobbits that had forgotten even their pipes, so much of their attention did his words catch. "Angmar is more than one hundred leagues from here." His expression turned serious once more. "And we have many dangers to surmount before then."  
  
"Like what?" asked Pippin.  
  
"The Ettenmoors," replied Aragorn, taking his pipe from between his teeth. "We may meet some Trolls like those your Uncle Bilbo encountered in the Trollshaws, Frodo, though you might find them fiercer and less communicative." The Hobbits shuddered slightly, remembering the stone statues they had seen on their long trip to Rivendell, statues that were all that remained of Bilbo's Trolls once they had been caught in the rays of the morning sun, for sunlight reverted such creatures to the stone from which they were reportably made.  
  
"Let us see if these Trolls can stand up to the ax of a Dwarf," Gimli grunted, patting the afore mentioned weapon.  
  
"Do not be so sure that they will not, Master Dwarf," cried Legolas from his place of vigilance. "Trolls have tough hides of overlapping scales; it is a well-made weapon indeed that can pierce the hide of a Troll." Gimli scowled in the general direction of the Elf.  
  
"And what makes you call a Dwarf's ax not 'well-made,' master Elf?" he queried in a dangerous tone.  
  
"You are mistaken, Master Dwarf," replied the Elf. "I said no such thing, I merely said you should not be so sure. I have met many Olog-hai in the forests of my home, and such Trolls are far stronger and craftier than any we shall encounter in the Ettenmoors." The Dwarf grunted in reply, muttering something that could only be uncomplimentary under his breath in the secret tongue of his folk.  
  
After a while the company settled down for the night relatively certain of their safety with a Wood-land Elf watching over them. So did the first day of the Fellowship's journey end, with few miles behind and many more before them. 


	4. Tales of Arvedui

Norway  
  
Astrid was filled with both apprehension and excitement. With her company and a Sami guide named Sondre, Astrid was quickly approaching the Sami winter camp. Astrid had contacted Sondre through a friend at the University weeks earlier. Sondre assured her that he had spoken to one knowledgeable storyteller who was willing to put aside deeply imbedded hostility towards Norwegians and speak to Astrid's group.  
  
Soon enough, Astrid found herself seated before Sondre's knowledgeable storyteller, Olaf with legal pad on her lap and a well-used pencil griped tightly in her hand. Once the pleasantries were concluded, Olaf began to speak in the tone of a storyteller, yet in Norwegian for Astrid's banquet. Per and Lars got out their own notebooks and settled down next to Astrid with all the other Sami who spoke Norwegian and were not otherwise occupied.  
  
"Long ago our ancestors lived far south from here near a bay called Forochel by the Kings of men who lived even further south in a kingdom called Arnor," began Olaf. "The land was colder then and men said that the chill came from some great southern evil. Our people kept to themselves and did not interact with the people of the south until our people came upon a starving King named Arvedui.  
  
"A group of our people were camping near the bay when they beheld the strange sight of a group of bedraggled men headed for them. They cried out for food and offered some useless trinkets he carried in exchange, calling us the Lossoth, snowmen. Our people did not care for these and feared to help the men in any event, for they learned that these men were at war with the great Witch-king, Angmar, the one who could create frost and ice as he wished. These men had resisted the Witch-king until they were forced to hide in the old Dwarf mines. Finally they were recently driven by hunger to seek us out. No, our people did not wish to help these strange men, but were finally persuaded to feel pity at the plight of their starved bodies. They built the men houses of snow and gave them some food.  
  
"Several of our people looked upon them with contempt. They knew nothing of the cold and how to conserve heat. They looked upon their new houses with surprise. Only Arvedui had the courtesy to thank us profusely. One young man even heard one of Arvedui's followers call us a savage people. Realizing we were their only hope, Arvedui apologized for his man. We could hear some strength of rage come into his voice that evening directed at his men, though we could not make out the words.  
  
"Arvedui became very impatient in the early days of his stay until he realized that he had no choice but to wait for help from the south. Slowly, his eyes opened to our people, and we slowly open our to him. He marveled at our sleds and once even tried to join the children in skating on the ice. Though in the end he was welcomed, Arvedui still kept a signal fire alight on the shore, a beacon to any aid that may come, and come it did.  
  
"One morning we were greeted by the sight of a large wooden vessel far out to sea. Arvedui and his men saw the vessel to and were filled with joy. Arvedui said it was the ship of an Elf named Cirdan come to rescue them. We partook not in their joy, for some deep foreboding griped our hearts. Nevertheless, we brought Arvedui and his men out over the ice on our sleds until they were within reach of the ships small boats. We bid them farewell and good journey but returned to our homes with heavy hearts. Not long after a storm such as was seldom seen, blew up out of the sea. Although we did not hear for certain for many, many years, we were certain the ship had perished in the storm. That was the last we heard of the people of Arnor for many a long year."  
  
________________________________________________________________________ For more information on Arvedui check the Return of the King Appendix A, Part I subpart iii I knew next to nothing on the Sami before starting this. If anyone notices any technical errors, please let me know. 


	5. The Ettenmoors

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places in this story are the property of the J.R.R. Tolkien estate. I do not seek more profit than enjoyment and experience in using them.  
  
Middle Earth Ettenmoors  
  
The Fellowship huddled around a fire in trepidation. They had posted two guards every night upon entering the Ettenmoors and had not yet met serious challenge, a fact that seemed to worry most of them.  
  
At last, the Fellowship members gathered around the fire settled down for the night. At first all was at peace; then the alarum was raised as were the weapons of the nine.  
  
"Build up the fire," Gandalf called to the youngest two hobbits. "This enemy is more likely to fear our fire than our swords," he added to the rest of the fellowship. "We are less than a day from the other side of this foul land. When I give the signal, grab a torch and make haste towards the north-west. We must place our hope with the rising of the sun."  
  
"What signal?" asked Pippin.  
  
"You will recognize it when you see it, have no fear of that," replied Aragorn as he drew his sword. "They come."  
  
As quickly as that, the wooded area filled with the large and ugly Trolls. Few indeed were the weapons that could pierce the Trolls' tough hides. The most effective way to halt the creatures was discovered by Legolas, an arrow in the throat. At last, Gandalf waved his staff and whispered some words in Quenya. The surrounding trees obligingly burst into flame, and each member of the fellowship laid hand upon a burning length of wood readied afore hand and ran with all their strength, battling off Trolls as best they could as they went.  
  
Trolls were never considered particularly intelligent. They showed this consideration to be true when they continued to give chase to the fellowship after the time in which they should have been safely holed up in their caves. Just as it looked as if the Fellowship was in serious trouble, the light of dawn flushed behind them in the east. Soon enough, the sun rose to the delight of the Fellowship and the dismay of the Trolls.  
  
"Run on, run on," called Gandalf. "Let us be out of this foul place and have rest before we enter another." And run on they did. At last, just as the hobbits felt about to collapse, they exited the Ettenmoors and called a halt.  
  
"That then, my young friends, was the Ettenmoors," Gandalf sighed as they settled down. "Many will our trials be, and few our times of rest, once we enter Angmar. Let us rest while we can until tomorrow."  
  
Gandalf's suggestion was met with no resistance by the wearied Fellowship. They took the time to light a fire and cook a fine meal such as they had not seen since leaving Rivendell and did not think to see again for a very long time. All knew that they would enter Angmar, the former kingdom of the witch-king, the head of Sauron's Nazgul, on the morrow, or perhaps the day after.  
  
Apologies for the lateness of this post - I have had major computer problems.  
  
Blablover5: I am glad you like my story. All though Captain Schlaechter doesn't know it, he was chosen because of his family background. He was not given the job of finding the Holy Spear. The next post should go far towards answering your other questions: we will be visiting the Third Reich and England as well as Norway this time. 


	6. The Mission

Norway, 1942  
  
As the storyteller finished his second tale of southerners visiting his ancestors, this time to place in hiding a Ring of great value and danger, the storyteller caught the eyes of the three young college students in turn.  
  
"I did not assent to tell you these things merely for your educational benefit. My second tale has not yet ended. Although our people have never been bound by friendship, we now face a common enemy. The German Nazi's who have invaded this land now search for that small but dangerous Ring entrusted to this land by the Fellowship. If they find it, both our worlds will be utterly destroyed. The Sámi have kept watch over the general area we were told held the Ring's hiding place for many thousands of years. We no longer have the strength to protect it by simple force. We need now to be covert and we need information. You," the storyteller said, pointing to Per, "have a brother who has escaped to England. If you wish to save all that you hold dear, you must ask him to contact an English Professor who has translated a book by some of the members of the Fellowship. This professor, a man called Tolkien, must entrust to your brother the precise location of the Ring and the details of the enchantments and traps placed upon the hiding place. We can not trust print to hold these secrets, only a person of great courage."  
  
"I think I speak for all of us when I say we will do anything we can to help, but I haven't heard from my brother since he left Norway," replied Per. "The British radio said that his ship did arrive in England, but I don't have the means to contact him, or even the gain assurance that he arrived in safety."  
  
The storyteller stared at his hands for a moment, then, looking up, he said, "Surely your resistance has some contact with the British government, or we could send someone to England to collect the information."  
  
"It's risky either way . . ." began Hans.  
  
"Perhaps we could travel over the snow to Sweden," interrupted Astrid with a strange light in her eyes. "We could get legal transportation from there to England."  
  
"We?" questioned the storyteller.  
  
"We," affirmed Astrid. "We may need to contact Per's brother to help us get back here with the information, and I speak English and German quite well and even enough Swedish to get by."  
  
"If you two go, I could stay and cover your tracks and absence," volunteered Hans. "My uncle owned a radio shop in Oslo before the war. I could try to form a link between the Sámi and the resistance or between the Sámi and London."  
  
"Very well," replied the storyteller resignedly. "Sondre will accompany you." Sondre nodded ascent from his corner. "You will leave on sleds tomorrow mid-morning. We will prepare them for you this night," continued the storyteller. "Sondre, take them to a place where they can get a meal and rest for the night." Sondre and the three southerners nodded respectfully and disappeared into the cold.  
  
Once they were beyond the hearing range of any tent, Per turned to Astrid. "Why were you so eager to go on this journey?" he asked in a soft voice.  
  
Astrid smiled and replied, "I have wanted to meet Professor Tolkien since I read his translation of Beowulf."  
  
"Ah," chuckled Per.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Captain Schlaechter cursed silently for the umpteenth time. Upon his arrival in the north of Norway, the captain realized how little information he really had to work with. He had been told that Berlin would send any information its scholars could come up with, but for the moment, he was struck sending search patrols who really didn't know what they were looking for and interrogating locals who had less of an idea what Schlaechter wanted than Schlaechter had of where it was hidden. Schlaechter cursed again and pushed through the nearest door to freeze his frustration in the snow clad compound.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Julia- Sorry for the lateness of the post. Thank you for the long in depth review. Izodiea- thank you for the review 


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